


the sun, the moon, the stars, and you.

by vantas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vantas/pseuds/vantas
Summary: After the final battle for the fate of the universe, Shiro has an important question for Keith.





	the sun, the moon, the stars, and you.

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for [meowlette](http://meowlettee.tumblr.com/) as part of the [Sheith Flower Exchange!](https://sheithbouquet.tumblr.com/) Running a little late due to some internet troubles, but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless! Their request was:
>
>> Acacia, Yellow - Secret love  
> Tulips, Red - Declaration of love  
> Honeysuckle - Bonds of love; Generous and devoted affection  
> Carnation, Red - Yes  
> Sunflower, Dwarf - Admiration; Gratitude
> 
> ... And a marriage proposal or love confession! ;) 

Keith collapses on himself like a house of cards, his breathing harsh and uneven as he grips the hilt of his mother's sword.

He's covered in dirt and grime.  The bodies of their enemies surround them, unmoving as proof of Voltron's victory in the final stage of this war.  Slowly dipping over the horizon, the planet's sun bathes everything in shades of orange and red. 

When Keith finally lifts his head to meet Shiro's gaze, his hair sticking to his face with sweat as he struggles to catch his breath, he somehow finds it in himself to smile at him. 

Even though they are all tired, weary, and injured — Keith still remains the most beautiful sight Shiro has ever seen.

For a moment, he wonders how they got here.

* * *

 

Truth to be told, it started before either of them noticed.

Subtle, shared looks between each other.  Radiant smiles that were reserved exclusively for when they were alone.  Whispered secrets, told when nobody else was looking their way. The simple brushing of their limbs as they walked side by side, sat side by side, laid side by side.

For centuries, mankind has struggled to capture the essence of love in simple words.

Some would wax poetics about the human heart, romanticizing each beat as if they were speaking of something more ethereal than an organ.  Others would compare love to a car crash; sudden and unexpected, impacting both parties at once with great force and velocity.

Shiro would compare the process of falling in love to the heat death of the universe.

A tale foretold.

An event that many speculated would happen.

Yet unavoidable.

Falling in love with Keith feels a little bit like destiny.

(And when it comes down to it, it would be all too easy to believe it was destiny that brought them together.

Two parallel lines that struggle to meet.  A battle won against the forces that tried time and time again to rip them apart.

Kerberos.  Zarkon. Haggar.   _ Their own self-sacrificial natures. _

But at the end of the day—)

* * *

 

Keith has a habit of looking at him like he hung the sun and the moons and the stars.  He smiles at him like Shiro is the center of the universe, his eyes crinkling and a single dimple forming on his right cheek.  Keith is the best thing that's ever happened to Shiro. He's the one who has been by his side, refusing to give up on him through thick and thin.  He knows that Keith refused to give up on him even after the Kerberos mission, when their knowledge of the war raging beyond their solar system was nonexistent and everything seemed so simple.  He knows Keith gave up his dreams of becoming a pilot  _ because _ of him, allowing his rage to boil over until he injured Iverson over the whole debacle.

When Shiro confronts him as to why he would do this, why he would give up something so important over someone who was declared lost in space — Keith simply shrugs.

"You were there when I thought nobody would ever care about me,"  Keith tells him, holding Shiro's hand in one of the rare occasions they get to have some peace and quiet together.  He rubs his thumbs against Shiro's knuckles, the touch far more gentle than anyone would believe Keith to be capable of.  But then again, Shiro knows more about Keith than anyone else in this life.

"... I was just being a decent person,"  Shiro tells him, unsure. He does not retract his hand. "It's what anyone else would have...  _ should _ have done."

Keith looks up at him then, purple eyes meeting gray as his lips curl.  It's an unpleasant expression. "Yeah. Maybe," he concedes, his tone oddly hollow.  "But no one else did. No one cared about me. No one, except you. You changed my life, Shiro.  I could never let anyone insult you, whether you're living  _ or _ dead."

There is a word unsaid here.  Four letters; two consonants, two vowels.  Shiro can feel the word threatening to burst out of his chest.  It is the heat death of the universe. It is the collision of stars.  It is Keith's unwavering devotion towards him. It is his own unending gratitude towards the young man standing in front of him.  It is  _ everything _ .

But Shiro smiles at him, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of Keith's head.

"Thank you, Keith."

The word goes unmentioned.

* * *

If there is one thing that is harder than fighting a battle itself, it's cleaning up after it.

There is not a single inch of Shiro's body that isn't sore.   The lions are in serious need of reparations. The castle itself is out of commission until further notice.  And to make matters worse, the number of formal  _ and _ informal meetings Shiro has had to sit through are beginning to chip away at his patience.  It doesn't help that, whenever he talks (not  _ whines _ ) to Keith about how he's one backhanded compliment away from strangling a man, Keith simply laughs at him.

"Hey," Keith tells him, splayed across Shiro's lap as he fiddles with his fingers. His tone is cheeky, though Shiro barely registers it as such while he thinks of how good Keith's fingers would look with a certain piece of jewelry.  "You're the one who looks good standing next to Allura, remember? The matching hair. Helps project an image of  _ wisdom _ , dude."

Shiro rolls his eyes, allowing Keith to continue his ministrations.  "I'm— Are you calling me old? Is that what you're getting at?"

Keith snorts, bringing their hands closer to his own face.  "No. Maybe. What if I am? The silver fox look suits you, don't you think?"

There is one remaining neuron within the confines of Shiro's skull.  It suffers a catastrophic meltdown as Shiro opens and closes his mouth helplessly, his intelligence plummeting to subterranean levels.  He sputters incoherently, grasping for the right words to say.

Nothing comes to mind.

But Keith still laughs, pressing his lips to the back of Shiro's hand.  His lips are dry, feeling more like there's a lizard rubbing up against his flesh than a human being — but it's fine.  Everything is fine. Human beings have a tendency to romanticize that which should not be romanticized. But it's not like he could ever consider anything about Keith unattractive, anyway.

It's a little bit like a curse, except that it isn't.

* * *

 

Once upon a time, Shiro had a grandfather.   _ Once upon a time _ , said grandfather was fascinated with the language of flowers.

Shiro was not.  He still isn't, in fact.  But some things stick with a person as they grow up. 

(He remembers the way his grandfather had looked at him once, his eyes kind as he asked Shiro to help him tend to his garden.  It's been years since then, but Shiro still remembers the overwhelming variety his grandfather had kept. 

Honeysuckles, yellow acacia, red carnations, sunflowers, tulips — and so many more. 

Shiro had been a kid back then.  He didn't appreciate these little quirks and hobbies as much as he does now.  He didn't appreciate the glint in his grandfather's eyes as he waxed poetics about the language of flowers, the language of  _ love _ .  Back then, kissing people sounded kind of gross and marriage was all kinds of weird.

But Shiro isn't a kid now.

He hasn't been for a long time.)

* * *

 

No one is really surprised when Shiro gets down on one knee in the middle of the castle's foyer, Keith's hand held in his.

(Or,  _ well _ .  Correction:  None of the humans are surprised

The alteans are caught off guard.

The alien diplomats and their allies are confused, staring at the Black Paladins like they've grown another head.

And Lance—)

_ "Wait, wait, wait. Why is Shiro—?!" _

He hears the distinctive sound of someone elbowing Lance in the stomach, effectively shutting him up.  Later, Shiro will take it upon himself to try to soothe all metaphorical (and physical) injuries. 

Not now, however.  It's not the right time for that.

It is, however, the right time for Shiro to take a small, black box out of one of his suit's compartments.  Keith is staring at him wide eyed, his eyes glossy with unshed tears, and there is a slight tremor in his limbs.

"Keith,"  he says, his tone dripping with love, love,  _ love _ .  "You've always been there for me.  You never,  _ ever _ gave up on me. I— I want to be there for you for the rest of my life, no matter what the future has in store for us.  I love you. Will you marry me?"

Keith is launching himself at him before Shiro even has the time to react.  His arms are slung over Shiro's shoulders, his face buried in the crook of his neck as he says:

"Yes, yes,  _ yes!" _

And in that moment Shiro knows that it doesn't matter how this all began, exactly.

All that matters is where they will go from here.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on: [tumblr](http://carcinology.tumblr.com/) • [twitter](https://twitter.com/beheads).


End file.
